Reunion
by elleyezee
Summary: Ever wonder why Buffy, Spike, Angel, Willow, Faith, Illyria, etc. split up across the country/world and seem to have taken on completely new identities? Spike will have to track everyone down as he slowly regains his personality and memories.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Reunion, Chapter 1

**Universe(s): **Buffyverse, Dollhouse, Bones, HIMYM, Ringer, Torchwood, & more (eventually)!

**Summary: **Ever wonder why Buffy, Angel, Willow, Spike, Faith, Illyria, etc. split up across the country/world and seem to have taken on completely new identities? What does this mean for the fate of the world when there's a rumored apocalypse in 2012 and no one to stop it? Since Spike is the only one with any of his personality or memory left, it's up to him to track everyone down and figure out what is going on and how to stop it.

**Characters: **Spike (Captain John Hart), Buffy (Bridget Kelly), Faith (Echo), Angel (Seeley Booth), Willow (Lily Aldrin), Illyria (Whiskey), Dr. Temperance Brennen, Andrew Martin, Victor Machado, Henry Butler, Marshall Eriksen, Adelle DeWitt, Topher Brink, Paul Ballard, & more!

**Pairing(s): **This is mostly a gen!fic, but there will be a lot of Spike/Buffy and some Bridget(Buffy)/Andrew, Booth(Angel)/Brennen, and Lily(Willow)/Marshall.

**Rating: **PG(-13?)

**Disclaimer:** All characters and universes belong to their respective creators. This is just for fun. :)

**Spoilers: **All of BtVS, Ats, and Dollhouse. Bones through season 6. HIMYM through season 6. Torchwood through season 2. Ringer through episode 2 (potentially more, but you should keep up with it so this won't spoil anything. :) ).

**Author's Note: **While this is a crossover, only BtVS and Angel will be needed to understand what's going on. It is mostly a Buffyverse/Dollhouse crossover, but several other universes will be used. I've made some minor changes to canon for most of the universes and will make them obvious in the story. Also, in this chapter, Spike is referred to as John for the most part, but don't worry, he'll want to be referred to as Spike soon enough. ;)

The first few chapters are Spike-centric and more characters will be added along the way.

* * *

><p><em>"Hurricane Irene marches north, leaving at least 8 people dead and close to 2 million without power in the states it has already hit. Tonight it bore down on millions more from the Delmarva peninsula to New Jersey and the New York metro-"<em>

John flipped the television off as he sipped his mug of coffee.

Another natural disaster was just what America needed. Last week it was just pathetic earthquake, but it was enough to make everyone in that bloody country go crazy. Now that something was causing real damage, every single politician and public figure he knew of was making some claim that these two events are signs from God and they should be interpreted as exactly what their agenda is. It was just like them to take advantage of something as horrible as death and destruction and use it for personal gain.

Well, he didn't really have much room to talk there. Every morning he awoke with fresh memories of death and destruction caused by a look-alike named Spike and his seemingly imaginary girlfriend, Drusilla. He didn't understand any of it. While he was dreaming, he felt like he was watching new episodes of a television show where he was the star. "Spike and Dru Paint the Town Red" was what he liked to call it. Except it didn't feel like fiction at all. These dreams didn't feel like dreams. They felt like memories. They felt more real than his actual memories.

Except if he told anyone about them, they'd probably send him to a loony bin. The death and destruction in these dreams were caused by superhuman strength and razor sharp fangs. None of it made any sense. He didn't have this strength now-not even when he worked every muscle in his body daily. No matter how hard he tried to make fangs appear or his face wrinkle up, he couldn't.

Vampires were things of urban legends and pop culture. They weren't real. Hell, if they were real, there would probably be an army of twelve to fifteen-year-old girl vampires taking over the world. Every girl in that age range that he'd come across had an irrational obsession with vampires and was dying to find their "Edward"-whoever that was.

It made no sense that if such a creature existed, they wouldn't take advantage of those little girls just like the politicians were taking advantage of natural disaster victims. It was human nature-well, just nature. It was survival of the fittest and the smartest. Animals prey on the weak and the willing. When a teenage girl wants to fall in love with you and live with you forever, it seems like it would be a fair trade for a good, easy meal. If vampires did actually exist, they must not keep up with pop culture at all.

In these memory dreams, however, the only teenage girls he came in contact with wanted to risk everything to kill him, not fall in love with him. These girls called themselves "slayers" and made a hobby out of hunting down and killing vampires. Maybe these slayers had gotten lucky and killed every last vampire in existence. That could be why there aren't any teenage girl vampires running around. It would be a long shot-since as far as he could tell there was only one slayer at a time-but it might explain things.

During his time as a vampire in these dreams, he had already killed two slayers and was working on a third. This girl's name was Buffy Summers and she was a perky, blonde, cheerleader-type with real determination. She seemed to have fun with her calling, unlike most of the other slayers he'd remembered. In the dream he had just awoken from, she didn't even want to use a weapon when fighting him, which made no sense at all. It was like she just wanted to fight and not to kill. He didn't understand it, but it excited him when his vampire self was about to bag a third slayer, due to her stupidity in fighting unarmed. Unfortunately, he awoke when the girl's mother clocked him with an axe, so he assumed that he didn't get the kill.

What really didn't make sense about this dream was how he awoke smiling as a result of remembering the girl's face. There was something different about her that he couldn't quite put a finger on from the dream alone. All he knew was that thinking about the girl made it feel like his heartbeat doubled and he couldn't get the image of her out of his mind.

As far as he knew, he was in love with another vampire and she was very, very ill. In a recent dream, Drusilla and he had been in Prague on a killing spree until he was nearly killed by an angry mob and she was kidnapped and tortured by one of the church inquisitors. Spike rescued her, but the methods the inquisitor had used in torturing her left her in a physical state as weak as her mental one.

Another thing John didn't understand was why in these dreams he loved this girl as much as he did. She was completely mad and extremely unfaithful. She was beautiful and could see into the future, but that didn't seem to be enough to love her as unconditionally as he did. If he could redo everything in these dreams, he would have left her the minute he saw her sleeping with her sire, Angelus.

He wouldn't have continued to live like that; he could be using the superhuman strength to help people. Sure, in the dreams he needed to drink blood to survive, but all of that violence was unnecessary. There had to be a way of buying blood from hospitals or butcher shops.

_Buying blood? What, am I starting to go insane?_

John abruptly shook his head and finished off his cup of coffee.

Okay, so even before he started having these dreams about vampires, his life wasn't exactly normal. He had travelled the world, the universe, the space-time continuum.

But that all made sense. There was science behind time travel and outer space-even aliens. He couldn't really explain it, but the people he used to work for could. Quantum mechanics this, relativity that. It was all physics. Drinking blood and living as a reanimated corpse wasn't. It was what you'd read about in myths and legends, not in a university textbook.

Plus, if he was a vampire, why didn't he need blood now? Why could he survive on human food? Where were his fangs?

None of it was rational, but he continued to search for clues that this person in his dreams was real. He'd been all over the world already searching for Drusilla or Angelus or even Angelus's sire, Darla. The only luck he had was finding the house he would have lived in as a human and the grave of William Pratt. He even dug up the grave to see if there was a body there that happened to look like him. Maybe this guy in his dreams was some sort of doppelganger.

Just as he had dreaded, the coffin was empty. It still didn't mean anything he dreamt was real. People dig up graves all the time in major cities like London, right?

The next stop in his search for remnants of his "past" was a city called Sunnydale in California. He couldn't find out much about it online, but he knew exactly how to get there. It seemed that the last time anything about the place was updated was in 2003, eight years ago. There were no listings for "Buffy Summers" or any of the other names he could remember. It was like the place disappeared off the face of the earth.

Since the internet was no help, he decided to check it out for himself. Maybe if the town didn't exist, he could just discount all of these bizarre dreams as false and get on with his life. It would take about a couple hours to get there from the random Californian town he'd stopped in the previous night.

* * *

><p>Well, he was right when he thought the town disappeared off of the face of the earth.<p>

John nearly crashed his bike into a tall wire fence before he fully understood what was in front of him. Where there was once a city, there was now an enormous crater. A few feet from the edge of the road, next to the fence, was a large stone wall with an engraving of a sun and words large enough for him to read across the top. It read "Sunnydale Memorial."

He decided to check it out to see if maybe there was mention of Buffy or her friends or something. Not that he was worried that she could have died in whatever caused the massive hole in the earth. He just wanted to see if there was any reason to keep believing the fantasy memories, since the town obviously existed at some point.

There were over a dozen entries, some names familiar, some not. One immediately caught his eye.

_Joyce Summers_

_1958-2001_

_Beloved Mother_

_Survived By Her Daughters Buffy and Dawn_

So the girl was real. And the woman who had saved her from him died in 2001.

He continued to skim over the names: Jenny Calendar, Tara Maclay, Warren Mears, Jonathan Levinson, Cassie Newton, Anya Jenkins, etc. The latest death year was 2003, so the town couldn't have lasted much longer than that.

What was at the very bottom of the wall was something he would never have expected and made him almost collapse in shock.

_This memorial is dedicated to_

_**William "Spike" Pratt**_

_Unknown - 2003_

_The Slayer Of Slayers_

_Truly Love's Bitch_

_A Monster Who Became A Man_

_My Champion_

_He Was Forgiven And Loved_

_We Can Rest Now_

Why would he have an entry on a wall of the dead? And an even better question was why in heaven's name would the entire wall be dedicated to him. As far as he knew, this person-vampire-in his dreams was _only_ a monster and would never be considered a champion. No one would have forgiven him for the acts of violence he'd committed and of the only two people who had ever loved him, one was dead and the other was too crazy to have ever written something this beautiful. Sure, he was obviously a slayer of slayers and had even called himself love's bitch a time or two, but the rest of it was complete madness.

Suddenly, he couldn't wait to fall asleep and dream more about Spike's adventures. Spike _was_ a monster in these dreams and _now_ John was a man, so maybe this was about him after all and these dreams were real.

_Maybe I'll visit a barber when I get to LA and try out the bleached look. I wonder where I can find a leather duster..._

* * *

><p>AN: Please, please, please review! I'm really excited about writing this and it is my first Buffyverse fic, so any criticism would be awesome! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N #1: Any natural disasters referenced from here on out are completely fictional. I just used Irene & the NE earthquake as a jumping off point, since they were so unusual.

A/N #2: Just an FYI about the "canon" used in this story: This exists solely in the Buffyverse. I'll be taking lots of ideas and characters from the shows mentioned in the "**Universe(s):**" section, but the only thing you can guarantee actually happened is what was on BtVS and Ats (while they were on TV). Everything that I'm using from the other shows will be explicitly referenced in the text of the story.

(I'm mainly saying this because I've only seen the episodes of Torchwood that JM is in and know nothing about the Who-verse, so this story will definitely not align with it.)

* * *

><p>It had been several days since Spike's visit to the great Sunnydale crater and he still had no luck finding any information on Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris, or Rupert Giles.<p>

Since then, he'd dreamt about almost killing the slayer again, curing Dru, becoming crippled, and worst of all, Dru cheating on him again. At this point, he was more anxious to find Angelus, or Angel, as Buffy called him, than anyone else in his dreams. If he found him, he was sure that even if he was weaker than the vampire, he could easily overpower him with rage alone.

The hatred he felt towards him seemed completely unwarranted. Sure, Angelus was screwing his girlfriend in his dreams, but he felt no jealousy over that. If anything, he was relieved that he finally had an explanation as to why he didn't love the vampiress anymore. The root of this rage was something deeper than jealousy. He just hated everything Angelus stood for-adultery, torture, manipulation. He made everyone around him play by his rules and took a sick satisfaction in the misery of others.

As a vampire, Spike only enjoyed the thrill and adrenaline rush of the violence, not the agony of his victims. Like Buffy, he wasn't in it for the kill, but the fight.

Only at this point in the memories, she wasn't even able to get satisfaction out of fighting. She was another one of Angelus's victims, being torn apart piece by piece until there was nothing left. Spike assumed that this was the same thing that drove Dru to what she was. After all, Angelus did take her human life.

Clearly, though, Buffy survived Angelus's games and made it at least five more years. He found himself frequently wondering what effect the whole mess had on her. Maybe Angelus did mentally destroy her like he did to Dru and turned her into a vampire as well. Only that didn't seem likely, her being a slayer and all.

He found himself day dreaming of her staking the bastard until he was startled by the TV.

_"BREAKING NEWS! Another catastrophic hurricane is set to hit the Gulf of Mexico early next week. This could be a record year in hurricane damage costs for the US."_

Maybe the politicians were right in interpreting these events as some sort of divine sign. Except Spike had an unnerving feeling that the gods interfering were the fire and brimstone kind, not the fluffy clouds kind. There was something ominous about everything happening in the world right now. Lately it seemed like every week there was a new natural disaster. Yeah, they were called "natural" disasters, but his intuition was telling him that there was something very unnatural going on. He'd travelled all over world throughout many time periods and during none of them were there so many consecutive events like this.

Maybe they had something to do with the drastic climate difference between now and the 52nd century. Then, it was never winter and the sky was coated in a layer of smog. He'd been told it was a result of pollution, so maybe that was what was the root of all of this too. The only problem with that hypothesis was that all of the scientists on the news immediately discounted it. Every single one of them didn't have any kind of explanation for what was going on and seemed extremely perturbed by that fact.

If he still had his vortex manipulator, he'd get out of this era and find one that was more peaceful. Unfortunately he had sold the thing a while ago and was stuck here, when the earth was falling apart with a cause unknown.

He'd given up time travelling after everything that happened with his former lover, Jack. Seeing the way he took interest in this time period made him curious about what was so special about it. After only a few months, he never wanted to leave. Things were much different than in the later centuries. Technology was simpler, people were more honest, and it wasn't so damn hot.

At first, he just took advantage of everyone he met like he'd always done. He lied his way through several failed relationships and made money by being a con man. It wasn't until he started having dreams about a little kid named William Pratt that he decided to turn himself around.

It was almost like he was reborn one morning with a fresh conscious and outlook on life. He suddenly saw the beauty in everything and everyone around him. He could no longer hurt people without it eating him alive, so his only choice was to sell his most prized possession so he had food and shelter.

Some bloke he met in a London bookstore got really excited when he saw the accessory on his wrist and offered him a hefty amount of money for it right then and there. He was blabbering on about some doctor and a phone box and how he had always known it was based on reality. The kid seemed completely clueless about how it actually worked, so he figured no harm would come from the exchange. The chances someone no older than twenty would be able to operate such an advanced piece of technology or be able to locate a rift were slim to none.

He momentarily thought about tracking down Jack instead of Buffy, trying to forget about William and Spike, and returning to a later time. The problem with that was that he was starting to doubt all of those memories. He knew that the five years he was stuck in a time loop with Jack were real, as well as the year before and the six after. It was everything that happened before that seemed fuzzy. The only memories he had of a childhood were William's, not John's. His vampire adventures were becoming more vivid than his time agent ones.

It was all so confusing. He needed to find out why this was happening, but no doctor would listen to him without diagnosing him with some sort of multiple personality disorder. This was exactly why he needed to find someone from Sunnydale. With all of the crazy things that went on in that town, surely someone would have an explanation for what was going on.

After searching every single high school classmate finder, he finally saw a familiar face-Daniel Osborne.

He remembered him as "Oz," another member of Buffy's group of friends. He knew something was off about him, but couldn't quite remember what. Shortly he'd find out—well, after the long trip to Tibet, where Oz was now located. Who knows, maybe the whole group just got their names changed and were hiding out with him. From the Google maps image of the place, it seemed like the perfect area for escaping everything about this world. Oz was a lucky guy to live in such serenity.

* * *

><p>"…<em>as we start our descent, please make sure…"<em>

Spike awoke to the soothing voice of the flight attendant announcing the end of the flight.

_So he's a werewolf, _he thought. The memory he'd just dreamt detailed the events of a full moon and its surrounding days. Angelus spent his nights tormenting the slayer while she fought the supernatural—which happened to include her best friend's boyfriend.

The only thing he knew about werewolves was that they were seemingly normal most of the time and only changed into wolf form right around the full moon, which had occurred a week or so ago. Hopefully the kid wouldn't be a threat and would have some idea about what was going on.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" the red head said as he opened the door. He was much shorter than Spike and didn't look a day older than how he remembered him.<p>

"Hi, uh, I'm Joh—err, Spike. You might remember me from back in—"

Oz immediately jumped back in fear with the realization of who he was looking at and moved towards the kitchen.

"Listen," Spike said before taking a small step just past the threshold of the ornate house, "I'm no vampire. If I was, I couldn't have just done that."

"But—" Oz stood there with a quizzical look for a moment. "Okay, I don't really understand how that's even possible, but I guess if I've been able to keep from changing into a wolf for all these years, there could be a way for vampires to repress their demon too. How'd you manage that?" No risk in being eaten alive.

"I wish I knew. Actually, for all I know, I never even was a vampire." Except it was seeming more and more likely every day now.

"No, you were definitely a vampire."

"How are you so sure?"

"You terrorized my ex-girlfriend for years. I may not have witnessed a lot first hand, but I heard about it from her."

"Willow?"

"Yeah. Have you heard from her? She's been MIA for years." Oz took a step in Spike's direction, examining him closely.

"I haven't. But, that's kind of why I'm here." Spike looked around the house and into the living room. "Mind if I have a seat?"

"No, I don't mind. Let me get my wife to make us some tea."

As he walked into the other room, Spike inspected the house. Toys coated the Oriental rug—some for children, some for dogs. There was no television or any electronics in sight. Everything was just as he had imagined—majestic and serene. The view of the vast fields surrounding the house was beautiful.

"This is my son, Kelden," his voice changed from stoic to playful as he spoke to the little boy. "Keldon, this is Spike. He's an old high school friend of Daddy."

"Hi Mr. Spike. Nice to meet you," the child said. He was an odd mixture of a human with his Asian features and hair as amber as his father's. Must have been around six or seven years old.

"Well it's nice to meet you too Kelden," Spike replied. He wasn't sure what to say from there; he'd never been good with children.

Luckily he was saved from the awkwardness when the child asked his father if he could go play and dashed outside.

"So I take it that you moved on from Willow then?"

"Yeah. For a long time I couldn't picture a future without her in it. Then I met Bayarmaa and she turned out to be what completed my being. She's most of the reason I can suppress the wolf."

"You can suppress the werewolf in you? How does that work?"

"Basically, I let the wolf's energy pass through me into the world. It's very spiritual and relies on the teachings of Bon." It didn't seem likely that this was how Spike went from vampire to human considering he didn't have a spiritual bone in his body. This seemed like a daily struggle and Spike's only struggle was trying to _bring out _his vampire properties.

"Huh. Now, I hate to dwell on your past, but I can't help but live in it right now. Do you have any idea what happened to Willow and her friends—specifically Buffy?"

A sullen look broached Oz's usually blank face. "I really wish I knew. Before I married Bay, I tried to track down Willow and let her know. Our last conversation was about maybe ending up together and I didn't want her to be holding out for me. When I got to Sunnydale, all that was left was a crater and a memorial—speaking of which; the thing was dedicated to you. I thought you were dead?"

"Well obviously I'm not. And I wish that I could explain to you why that thing's dedicated to me, but I can't. Continue."

"Yeah, well, I figured that they must have stopped another apocalypse and destroyed the town in the process. The fact that Tara's name followed by a love poem was what made me think Willow survived—"

"Who's Tara?" Spike asked.

"The reason me and Willow didn't work out," Oz replied with another broken look on his face. "Anyways, I spent months searching for her and trying to contact all of my high school and college friends. I got ahold of pretty much everyone but the old Scooby gang and no one had heard from any of them since '03 or earlier. The ones who stayed in Sunnydale until then said that suddenly everyone just started abandoning their houses and jobs, so they followed too. Something ominous was going on that no one could really explain. I didn't really get it, but whatever.

"So after coming up with nothing but dead ends, I sought out the watcher's council. You remember them right? The British people that are in charge of slayers. Giles was one."

"Yeah, I think I had a few run-ins with them in my time." In the dreams, he'd viciously murdered several.

"Well, there weren't many members of the watcher's council left when I contacted them. They told me about some crazy terrorist group taking out potential slayers and bombing buildings. They said that Willow, Buffy, and her friends defeated them and destroyed Sunnydale in the process, but only because they cast a spell that made all the potential slayers into real slayers. I didn't get why that made the town blow up, but I'll never really understand all of this supernatural stuff."

"So that's why there isn't an army of teenage girly vampires!" These new slayers must have wiped vampires out of existence. Right. It all made sense. What didn't make sense was how one went from being a vampire to being a human…

"What?" Oz was considering his outburst. With the lack of technology in the house, it was doubtful that he'd understand the pop culture phenomenon that vampires had become as of late.

"Nevermind. Go on."

"Anyways, they said that once the Sunnydale Hellmouth was no longer a threat and since there were so many slayers for the rest of the world's problems, Buffy and her friends were off the hook. They supposedly settled into a normal life in San Francisco. But the thing is, I had already checked for information on them in every Californian city I could think of. They weren't in San Francisco—at least under their real names. I explained that to the watcher and she said that they'd look into it and get back to me. She never did and I've been so busy with my family that honestly, I kind of forgot about it all. I like to think that Willow is out there and happy somewhere." He took a deep breath and looked at his feet—guilt was covering his face.

"Hey, it's not your fault if anything happened to them. At least you alerted the watchers of their disappearance," Spike said, trying to cheer Oz up.

"Yeah, I guess. I just miss the old days sometimes. Don't get me wrong—I love my life here—but Willow was the best thing that had ever happened to me before Tibet. And knowing that I'll never see her again, even if we've both moved on, is disappointing, to say the least."

"I'll make sure you get to see her again if I find them. So what about this Watcher's Council? Where can I find them? I mean, even if they don't have any leads on the Willow and Buffy, they'd probably know what's going on with me, right?"

"What, exactly, is going on with you?"

"Like I said, I don't know. For a year or so, I've been waking up with fresh memories of me as a vampire. I think the earliest ones took place in the Victorian era. Initially I thought that maybe I was having nightmares or that they were just crazy dreams from watching too much _True Blood _or _The Vampire Diaries_, but the vampire I was in my dreams was different. I didn't cry blood and wasn't allergic to silver. Instead of sparkling in the sun, I just caught on fire. My face got all smashed up and demonic looking. Nothing added up with fiction, so I started checking out places that I'd been in these dreams to clear my head. Sure enough, there was an empty grave for William Pratt, the human I was before I was a vampire. I didn't come across any other evidence until last week when I visited Sunnydale and saw that the bloody memorial was dedicated to me—or Spike, the vampire in my dreams."

"So…" He sat there thinking for a moment. "If you're not Spike then who are you?"

"That's the thing. I don't know. I thought I was Captain John Hart, Time Agent, but then I started having these dreams. And you recognized me as Spike, right? So is that who I am?" He really didn't know. Part of him wanted to be Spike, but he was still John at the same time.

"You are who you think you are. It doesn't matter what I think. Spike is just a name," Oz answered as if he were some kind of philosopher.

"But I was called Spike once, right?"

"Yeah," he said, still deep in thought. Spike wasn't sure what had Oz so mesmerized, so he decided to get back to the less ambiguous topics.

"Well, anyways, about the watcher's council?"

"Oh. Yeah. I can give you a few names and addresses." Oz grabbed a pen and notepad off of the nearby table and jotted down the information. He handed it to Spike and continued, "No guarantees, but they should know something about your problem if it's supernatural. They're located in England, but I take it that you know you're way around there."

"In several centuries." England was one of the few countries that remained somewhat timeless. Yeah, a few things changed throughout the years, but because of its small size, it couldn't be constantly developing like the US or China.

"Time Agent, huh?"

"Yup. Been one for years. Travelled the world and a few millennia."

"So what kind of time machine do you have? Telephone box, '80's car, space ship, chair with satellites on either end?"

"Ha. None of that crazy stuff. It was just a little wrist strap. Of course, I don't have it any more, which is why I'm even here. Sorry if you wanted to take a trip." Spike scoffed at the naivety of science fiction. They were always getting things wrong.

"No," he immediately said. Then added, "Although I am interested in the paradoxes that might occur."

"I can't really explain it all, but it's not like it matters any more. I'm stuck here with these foolish memories of people who don't even seem to exist anymore."

"Good luck finding them and figuring out what's wrong with you. I'd love to help, but my family is too important to leave alone."

"It's alright. Thanks for the information. I'll make sure to be in touch."

At that, the two men shook hands and Spike exited the house to hop on his rental bike. Finding these people was going to be difficult but it was better than driving himself mad with the identity crisis he was currently experiencing.

John Hart was beginning to fade into the distance just like the house behind him.

* * *

><p>AN: Please review and let me know how this is going. It's been so long since I've written anything other than lab reports and essays, so all criticism is welcome.


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